


Welcome to Lantea

by Brumeier



Series: Life in the Yukon [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Dogs, First Meetings, Gen, Pre-Slash, Radio, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: Lantea's research station is getting a new scientist, and he definitely catches John's eye.





	Welcome to Lantea

_Speaking of homeostasis, our new research scientist is due in today. I know we’ll all do our best to make him or her feel welcome in our town. And if you want to get in on the pool for how long they’ll last, Bernard is at the café with available calendar dates. Congrats again to Connie Kilabuk who won the Kavanagh pool! Okay. You guys asked and here it is: Japanese Taiko Drums. Enjoy!_

John was finishing up some routine maintenance on his plane – he had a run coming up to Poorman – when the call came in from Caldwell. He wiped the grease off his hands with a rag before picking up the CB radio in the cockpit.

“This is Sheppard. Over.”

_John. The new research scientist is here. I need you to take him out to the observatory and get him settled._

John sighed. Caldwell never asked, he always demanded. It was one of his worst personality traits. But the man practically owned Lantea and it was always better to play along so he wouldn’t raise a fuss. Besides, he sent a lot of business John’s way.

“Roger that. On my way.”

_We’re at the café._

Of course they were, the café was the hub of the whole town. John’s stomach grumbled and he realized he’d skipped lunch. Well, okay then. He could get lunch to go when he picked up the new scientist. Hopefully this one had a more pleasant demeanor than nasty Dr. Kavanagh. John hadn’t been sad to see that guy go.

John got cleaned up and whistled for Mongo, winner of Anchorage’s Ugliest Dog contest two years in a row (he got beaten out by a Chinese crested last year). He was a hodge-podge of different breeds and they didn’t all blend well. He was dumb as a box of rocks, but he had a big heart. 

Mongo jumped up in the truck, his big head out the window as John made the drive to town from the airfield.

John wished he could re-negotiate his contract. He’d only gotten stuck babysitting the scientists because the research station was in close proximity to the airfield. It was more trouble than it was worth. But Caldwell was always trying to encourage growth, picturing Lantea as some sort of Northern Riviera that tourists would start flocking to, and that included getting the science community committed to staying in the area because it looked good on brochures. Intellectual property, Caldwell called it.

“Hey, Sheppard,” Jon said when John walked into the café. “Can I get you something?”

The kid – everyone under the age of twenty-five had now become kids in John’s eyes – had an apron folded in half and tied around his waist.

“Yeah. Give me the usual, to go. I have to take the new guy up to the observatory.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

He pointed at the booth in the corner, where Caldwell was sitting. There was no sign of the scientist. 

“Steven,” John said as he slid into the booth. There were three empty plates piled up, and several empty glasses. “You have a party?”

“Dr. McKay was hungry after his trip.”

The tone of his voice told John everything they needed to know: another pain-in-the-ass scientist that would stay a couple months and then run screaming back to whatever city they’d come from. Wonderful.

“So where is –”

“What kind of Podunk, backwater town puts dead animal heads in the bathroom?”

“Never mind,” John said. He turned to get a look at Dr. McKay.

“If I wanted to be stared at while I take a piss it certainly wouldn’t be from fake, glassy eyes that can’t show the proper amount of appreciation.”

John fought back a laugh. He was going to be trouble, for sure, but at least he was funny. And pretty easy on the eyes, too. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, blue eyes that were staring back at John. 

“You’re in my seat.”

John slid over to make room.

“Dr. McKay, this is John Sheppard. He’ll be taking you out to the research station.”

“Oh, right. The pilot. I thought you’d be older.”

“Same,” John replied with a smirk.

McKay’s mouth twisted down on one side. John liked it. “Well, let’s get going. I’d like to get settled in if you don’t mind. They said it was a short bus ride from Anchorage but I must’ve been caught in a time anomaly, because four and a quarter hours isn’t short.”

Jon came over to the table, right on time, with a brown paper bag which he handed to John. “Evan threw in a little something for Mongo, too.”

“Tell him thanks.”

“Mongo? Who’s that?” McKay asked. When he got to the truck and saw the dog’s head sticking out of the window, tongue lolling, he stopped in his tracks. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not riding with that…that…”

“Dog?” Caldwell supplied helpfully. 

McKay turned to him with a horrified expression. “That’s a _dog_?”

“Mongo’s a good boy, isn’t he?” John scratched the mutt behind his ears. McKay clearly wasn’t an animal lover, though, so Mongo had to go in the truck bed. He had a little nest of blankets back there, and a ham bone from Evan to chew on.

Caldwell helped load up McKay’s suitcases, which John secured with bungee cords, and then McKay was trying to brush the dog hair off the seat with a tissue.

“He’s not gonna last long,” John murmured to Caldwell.

“If he doesn’t they’ll close the research station. It wouldn’t hurt you to lay on the charm.”

John rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, Dr. McKay. See you later, Steven.”

Caldwell held his hand up as John pulled out of the parking lot. 

_The only reason I was in the tree in the first place was to show off for Mrs. Danvers’ granddaughter. Suffice to say, I learned at an early age to be true to myself. Less broken bones that way._

“Is this the local station?” McKay asked.

“K-LAN,” John replied. “Caldwell owns it. Blair is pretty much the only guy you’ll hear on it, though. No-one else wants the job. And that guy can talk a blue streak.”

_Lost: one bracelet, handmade with leather and pearls. If you find it, please return it to Ms. Teyla. She’s over at the school for another week or so, running those yoga classes. There’s a reward of one free class for the person who finds and returns the bracelet._

“Is this what passes for breaking news around here? What’s next? Banjos? Hillbillies?”

What was next was a Johnny Cash song, which made John grin and tap his fingers on the steering wheel. He could feel McKay watching him.

“So what’s your deal?”

“My deal?” John echoed.

“What’s a guy like you doing in Alaska? You just fly people around? I’d think you could make more money doing that somewhere else.”

“I probably could,” John said. “But I like it here. It’s peaceful, and the people are nice.”

“Well, that’s a rousing endorsement.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” John countered.

He saw McKay shrug out of the corner of his eye. “Bad karma? Bad luck? My supervisor thought I needed a change of pace. Ha. Banishment is more like it. I know the track record for this place. People come out here and lose their minds.”

“You think they have it in for you?”

“Obviously! How else do you explain it? There’s not even any cell service here, which has to be against some kind of law. How am I going to live without my cell phone?”

“Same way we all do,” John replied with a chuckle. “It’s not the end of the world, Dr. McKay.”

“Edge of the world, maybe,” McKay said gloomily.

By the time they got to the research station they’d heard the history of the Chopec Indians of Peru and a recipe for tongue. KLAN was nothing if not eclectic, but then that suited the make-up of the town perfectly.

The research station was little more than a small observatory with an office attached, out in the middle of nowhere. The view was spectacular, though. Dr. Peck had let him use the telescope a time or two to take a deeper look at the stars. She’d been studying magnetic reconnection, but John had just gazed at the Orion nebula and remembered his childhood dreams of becoming a space explorer.

“Please tell me there’s running water.”

“They even put in a bathroom, back in ’83 I think.”

“Thank goodness for small favors,” McKay said with relief. 

“It’s a composting toilet.”

McKay muttered something in French and went inside to look around. John waited, leaning against the truck and eating the turkey sandwich Evan made him. He’d been prepared to dislike the new guy, but McKay was actually pretty amusing. Or maybe it was his very shapely ass in those jeans. Whatever the reason, John thought he might take the time to get to know McKay better. Maybe.

“Okay, the setup isn’t completely asinine. I can work with it. Where am I going to stay?”

“It’s not far.”

They got back in the truck and John turned around. The rental cabin was a half mile from the research station. It was small, just three rooms, but it had a proper flush toilet and a shower, and a fully-function kitchenette. John helped McKay carry his luggage inside and gave him the key to the front door and the key to the truck parked in the garage.

“The phone works, and there’s a list of important numbers on the table.”

“Yeah, yeah,” McKay said distractedly. He was busy opening cupboards and poking the furniture. “This place is a dump. Where did this couch come from? The cast-off pile at the Good Will?”

“It’s not that bad,” John protested. Well, maybe it was. But no-one stayed there long so it never really mattered.

Mongo barked from just outside the door.

“You should go take care of that…thing,” McKay said. “Who do I call if something breaks in here? Which seems very likely, I might add.”

“That would be me. I’m your landlord.”

“Oh. Is your number on the list?”

John smirked. “Nope. Welcome to Lantea!”

He left McKay sputtering angrily behind him.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** We all knew Rodney would be coming. ::grins:: And here he is, making his usual good first impression. LOL! Mongo got added because we were talking about pets in fic on the [You Should Be Writing](https://ushobwri.dreamwidth.org/210456.html) comm and it turns out I write mostly cats. So, one ugly doggo for John.


End file.
